


Blood and Wine

by Idrelle_Miocovani



Series: Blood and Wine [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, DA Drunk Writing Circle, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Love, Missing Scene, Romance, Tags Update as We Go, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-10-20 20:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idrelle_Miocovani/pseuds/Idrelle_Miocovani
Summary: Lorenna Hawke is a mage. A blood mage, to be more precise. She also happens to be in love with a grumpy elf who loves wine. These are their adventures together.This is an archive for short stories about Lorenna and, primarily, her relationship with Fenris. All of these works are responses to prompts I received on tumblr and a short, character-driven moments that range from fluffy to tragic to humorous.





	1. A Joint Endeavour

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is a different prompt. Most of these were written with or after a couple glasses of wine, so they are very much spontaneous and unedited in nature. 
> 
> On Fridays, feel free to drop me a line or a prompt at my tumblr, [idrelle-miocovani](http://idrelle-miocovani.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Lorenna x Fenris fluffy cooking disaster?  
> Characters: Lorenna Hawke, Fenris

Something was burning at the Hawke Family Estate.

Had the servants been there that night, someone would have certainly raised the alarm. Or perhaps Bodahn Feddic would have ran all the way to the office of the City Guard to alert Captain Aveline Vallen that her dear friend was about to die in an imminent fire. But as it was, everyone had been dismissed and the estate was empty, save for two people.

The very same individuals who had caused the burning in the first place.

“That’s not where that goes!”

“I know where it goes!”

“Do you? Because it looks like you’re just making this up as you go along!”

“That’s because you have no patience, Hawke,” Fenris snapped.

Lorenna glared at him, dropping her pan back on the smoking stove with a clang. “I can be patient.” She stepped towards him, draping her hand across his chest from behind—a perk of being the tall one in the relationship. “I can be _very_ patient.”

Fenris didn’t move. He was frozen before the kitchen table, a knife in one hand, and a large red bell pepper—imported straight from Antiva—in the other. He glanced around the kitchen, at the smoke rising and circling the rafters, at the mess of pots and pans, burnt and crusted with what would have been their dinner. Only a basket filled with vegetables had been saved. Fenris sighed and slowly set down both the knife and the pepper, and placed his hand over Lorenna’s. It hovered there for a brief moment before he pushed it out of the way, freeing himself from her grasp, and crossed over to the stove.

“It went out,” he said.

“I can handle that,” Lorenna said, raising a hand.

Fenris caught her hand and pulled her away from the stove. “No more magic,” he said.

“Do you want this meal or not?” Lorenna asked.

“No more magic!” Fenris repeated.

“It’s a shortcut!”

“There are no shortcuts where magic’s involved!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sakes, Fenris, it’s a simple fire spell—”

“That’s not the point!” Fenris exclaimed. “Just because magic provides a solution does _not_ mean you should be reliant on it. _Particularly_ when it comes to fine dining.”

Lorenna blew out a puff of air, her red bangs fluttering across her forehead. “This isn’t fine dining. This is a mess.”

“So _you_ say. Do you even know how to cook?”

“Yes,” Lorenna said, folding her arms defensively.

Fenris arched an eyebrow.

“I know how to cook with magic,” Lorenna added, spreading her hands.

Fenris frowned. “What constitutes ‘cooking with magic’, I wonder?”

“You take the thing, you put it on another thing, and you set it on fire?” Lorenna said.

Fenris rubbed his forehead. “Is that what counts for exquisite cuisine in Fereldan.”

“Most of the time, yes.”

“Hm. And here I was under the impression that the main feature of Fereldan cooking was that everything was stewed until it turned a uniform brown.”

“There’s that, too. We either roast or stew our food into oblivion.”

Fenris turned away and surveyed the mess in the kitchen. “I don’t know if I can save this disaster,” he said.

“Hey!” Lorenna exclaimed. “I did my best, thank you very much—”

“Everything is burnt to a crisp.” Fenris paused. “My fault as much as yours. I should have been more careful. I apologize.”

Lorenna wrapped her fingers around his. “Let’s call it a joint endeavour,” she said and pulled him in for a kiss. “A joint disaster, to be more precise,” she added, kissing him again.

“I still have those bottles of the Antivan red,” Fenris said, drawing away. “I do believe we can still save this night.”

“Wine for dinner?” Lorenna said. “Wouldn’t be the first time. I’m game.” 


	2. Before the Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: FenHawke, before sunrise.  
> Characters: Lorenna, Fenris

Lorenna knew she dreamt frequently, but she didn’t often remember her dreams. Being born gifted with a connection to the world of dreams and magic, one would _assume_ she would be granted the ability to remember whatever mischiefs her mind created while she was unconscious, but that was simply not true for her. She could walk by fifty desire demons in her sleep and have no idea what occurred, a fact for which she was very thankful if she thought about the possibilities a little too hard. From her chats with other mages, both Circle and apostate, it seemed every other mage except for her could sum up their nightly experiences at the drop of a hat.

For the most part, Lorenna was fine with that. However, there was a strange exception to her rule.

She _would_ remember her dreams if she was woken abruptly. Especially if that dream-time interruption came in the form of cold feet and accident, but surprisingly aggressive, blanket hogging.

From the day Lorenna suggested she and Fenris live together, she had remembered most of her dreams. The good, the bad, the ugly, the bizarre, the nonsensical—it didn’t matter. Just as their relationship had prompted flashing returns of Fenris’ memories from before Danarius branded him with lyrium, Lorenna was assaulted by the bizarre fabrications of the inner workings of her mind.

This week alone, she remembered vividly going through a seven-step engagement process to Queen Anora of Fereldan; herself and Fenris captaining what looked like a flying pirate ship (Isabela, wherever the fuck she was, would be jealous); Isabela evoking time magic to return to the Qunari invasion and hand over the Tome of Koslun; and witnessing Meredith and Orsino dance a tango in the middle of the Gallows while Anders conducted the accompanying orchestra.

She didn’t mention any of these dreams to Fenris (compared to what he was going through, her strange dreams held no contest). She didn’t mention them to _anyone_ , for that matter. She was perturbed, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.

Especially now she knew she had a way to prevent them.

The sun had not yet risen when Lorenna was shaken awake by the feeling of her feet turning to ice. She shuddered and groaned in resistance, but forced her eyes open anyways. She rolled over onto her side and gently kicked Fenris’ cold feet away from her.

To her immense surprise, he didn’t wake up. Instead, he rolled to one side, tugging nearly all of the blankets with him, snoring softly.

Lorenna let out a frustrated sigh and pulled the blankets back. Fine. If he wasn’t going to wake up, then _she_ was going to go back to sleep. Lorenna cocooned herself in her half of the blankets and settled back into her side of the bed. 

As she was trying to find a comfortable spot on her pillow, an elbow grazed the side of her face.

Lorenna bolted upright in bed. She grimaced and looked over at her peacefully sleeping… well, whatever you wanted to call him. Person of interest. Her expression softened as she watched him, his relaxed, gentle breathing, the way his hair fell across his face, his complete and utter serenity…

No.

He woke her up, with his cold feet and his blanket hogging and his elbowing. He would pay the consequences.

She patted him frantically, reluctant to use any more force, hoping that her irritating, repetitive tapping would eventually cause him to wake.

No success.

“Fenris!” Lorenna muttered. “FENRIS!”

Nothing.

Scowling, Lorenna did the last thing that came into her sleepy mind: she pulled every single blanket away from his side and onto hers.

Fenris’ eyes snapped open.

“Wha wuzzat for?” he said groggily.

“Stop waking me up,” Lorenna said. “You’re giving me weird dreams.”

“…what’re you on about?”

_“Stop waking me up!”_

“As… you wish.” His eyes closed and, moments later, he started snoring.

Lorenna sighed and dumped the blankets on his head. “Oh, never mind.”

There was a time and a place for this kind of whacky conversation, apparently, and this was not it.


	3. A Thousand Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Raindrops on eyelashes, for Lorenna and Fenris.  
> Characters: Lorenna and Fenris

The day after _it_ happened, the rain came.

It started as a storm looming off of the coast, dark clouds originating somewhere in Fereldan and then pushed over the Waking Sea by an unusual, but strong, south wind. The day dawned bright and suddenly, but it soon gave way to cracks of lightning and booming thunder as a downpour of rain pounded the Kirkwall’s streets.

She couldn’t be in the house that day. Everything reminded her of Leandra. She had risen that morning and—stomach growling, even though she barely wanted to eat—found her way to the kitchen. The servants had been dismissed and she was on her own. She had found oatmeal in the cupboards and had begun the process of making porridge when she withdrew a bowl. It was porcelain, white with a dainty design of pink flowers around the rim. Her grandmother had gifted it to Leandra years ago. It had somehow survived the trek from Kirkwall to Fereldan, and the desperate flight back, all those years afterwards.

As a child, Lorenna had eaten from that bowl.

As a teenager, she had leased Leandra about it.

As an adult, she had scoffed that Leandra still clutched to something that reminded her of the family that had abandoned her for marrying a mage.

And now—

She dropped it.

Lorenna stared in shock as the bowl slipped from her fingers, powerless to stop the natural forces pulling it towards its doom. The bowl shattered into a thousand tiny pieces across the floor, too broken, too damaged to be put back together again. Lorenna’s eyes widened and she felt the trembling gasps climb up out of her chest and into her throat and mouth, and then she was falling, falling, falling, like a broken thing herself, and the screams that wrenched from her throat were terrible and unearthly, as violent as the death that had been inflicted upon her own mother.

Fenris found her collapsed on the kitchen floor. He gently helped her to her feet, struggling though she was, and draped a blanket around her shoulders. The blanket had come from his own house—it smelled of nothing but him, and she found stability and comfort in that. Fenris bundled the blanket around her and escorted her away from the kitchen, through the house and out into the courtyard beyond.

The rain poured down upon them, soaking them through within seconds.

Lorenna stopped moving.

“Come on,” Fenris murmured. “Lorenna, you’ll catch your death if you stand here much longer—”

_“No.”_ She didn't shake her head, she didn’t do anything to emphasize her words. She merely pulled the blanket closer around herself and tipped her head back, eyes squeezed shut, and felt the rain pelt her face.

Fenris nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need, I am here.”

They stood in the courtyard, hand-in-hand, letting the rain wash down upon them. Lorenna’s wracking sobs returned and as the thunder crashed about them, she unleashed her strangled cries, over and over again.

Fenris stood silently at her side, his hand held tight around hers.

When the storm passed, Lorenna collapsed into his chest and he held her tight, held her as if he would never let go, and she sobbed quietly against, her ragged breathing slowing down with each breath. And when her throat was raw, when she finally could sob no longer, she gazed at him, green eyes ringed by the tears—or was it rain?—still clinging to her eyelashes.

“Fenris…”

“There is nothing you need to say,” he said, gently kissing her forehead.

“Thank you,” Lorenna murmured and closed her eyes.   


	4. Turning the Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Gritty eyes when you stare into fire too long, for FenHawke.  
> Characters: Fenris x Lorenna Hawke

The flames danced in the hearth, crackling as their light illuminated her chambers with a soft, warm glow. On any other night, it would be a pretty or heartwarming sight—something to remind her that, after a long day of trials and tribulations, she was in the comforting embrace of her own home. 

Not anymore. 

From this far away in Hightown, Lorenna could not hear the screams nor feel the fires as looters and bandits ransacked the city, taking advantage of the chaos of this night. In the wake of the Chantry explosion, the battle in the Gallows and Meredith’s fall, civil unrest had reached its peak. Lowtown was burning and soon Hightown would follow. There was nothing even the Champion of Kirkwall could do to stop it. 

She had tried. 

She had failed. 

And now she had to run. 

Her friends had already scattered. But Lorenna had returned home one more time. She couldn’t bring herself to simply… leave. She had to— 

_I don’t know._  

All the torches were out. The drapes were closed—there was nothing but the black of night beyond the windows. The estate sat in shadows, hollow and empty. Her hearth was the only thing left. 

Lorenna leaned against the mantelpiece, her hand pressed into the carved oak, green eyes staring at the flames. The clock was ticking. She didn’t have much time left. She had to leave Kirkwall tonight. 

The door creaked open. 

“Hawke?” 

“I’m here.” 

Fenris crossed the room and laid a hand on her shoulder. “We must go.” 

“I know,” she said. “Just… give me a moment?” She glanced at him, eyes blinking away grit as they began to tear up. 

“Are you all right?” Fenris asked. 

Lorenna drew a finger across the corner of her eye. “I’m fine. My eyes are watering, that’s all—” 

“Lorenna.” He caught her hand, grasping it firmly in his. “You are leaving the place you call home, the place you fought to rebuild. You have memories here. Important ones—” 

“There are nightmares here, too,” she said, trying not to think of her mother’s empty chambers down the hall. “Things I don’t need to remember. Maybe it is time I said goodbye.” 

“That doesn’t mean you are not allowed to grieve.” 

Lorenna stepped away from the hearth. “And what of you, Fenris?” she demanded. “This is your home, too. Will you grieve?” 

“I—” His voice caught in his throat. “I don’t know. If I ever had a home before, I don’t recall what it was like to give it up. And now—I don’t know.” 

“You may never see Kirkwall again after tonight,” Lorenna said quietly. 

Fenris pulled her close, sweeping her soft red hair out of her face. “Would it be terribly sentimental of me to say that my home is wherever you are?” 

A smile tugged at the corners of Lorenna’s lips. “Oh, dear Maker, don’t let Varric hear you say that.” 

“Don’t worry, he’s safely out of earshot.”

“And yet certain details mysteriously make their way back to him anyway,” Lorenna said. “Nosy dwarf.” 

“You’re smiling,” Fenris observed.

“I wasn’t upset to begin with,” Lorenna said defensively. “I was closing one chapter and turning to the next.” She linked her fingers through his and kissed him. She lingered there, breath trembling, pulling him into her embrace. 

Her life was changing. The world was changing. But for the first time she felt safe. Strong. Secure. Whatever change brought, she would face it. And she would triumph. _They_ would triumph. This wasn’t an end. It was a beginning. 

Lorenna broke the kiss. “We should go.” 

Fenris nodded.

They picked up their packs, linked hands once more and strode from the room together, leaving nothing behind by the dying fire crumbling into embers and ash.


	5. In the Wind and the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fenhawke, "when it storms."  
> Characters: Lorenna x Fenris, on the run after Kirkwall.

Lorenna was wet. 

She didn’t like being wet. Water soaking through heavy wool and leather led to both an unpleasant smell and also the numb-chilling, straight-to-the-bone feeling that she would never, ever get dry, no matter how many magical flames she lit in attempt to dry her clothes. But the storm had caught her off-guard and now she was drenched with no choice but to pull her sodden cloak around her and hope for the best. 

On the bright side, at least the rain was washing off the blood caked to her face. 

The wind pulled at Lorenna’s hair and clothes, blowing her hood off her head more than once as she climbed the rocky path. She reached out reflexively and pulled the hood back on, scrunching up her face to keep the heavy raindrops out of her eyes as they pelted to the ground in a torrential downpour. 

_Blasted place. I guess they call it the_ Storm _Coast for a reason._  

Something hard and cold and the size of her thumb and forefinger put together fell out of the sky, dashing against her hand. 

_What the fuck was that?_

Lorenna glanced up, shielding her face from any other large objects the sky decided to throw at her. 

Another ball-sized chunk hit her hand. Lorenna gasped at the stinging pain and dashed the rest of the way up the hill. 

_You’ve got to me kidding me,_ she thought savagely as she grit her teeth together. _Hail? MONSTROUS HAIL? What kind of shitty place is this?_

She knew better than to ask that question. She was on the coast of Ferelden. Of course it was shit. Darkspawn weren’t the only reason why she had abandoned her homeland for Kirkwall, all those years ago. The weather was a large part of it, too. 

Lorenna crested the top of the hill and dove into a nearby thicket. Hopefully the trees would provide shelter for the rest of her journey. The last thing she wanted was to get brained by a chunk of hail. Fenris would never let her live it down. 

Sliding over the wet grass, moss and rocks, Lorenna picked her way through the trees, shouldering the heavy bag slung across her back, cursing the storm relentlessly. It was her fault she had been caught outside in it, but what was she supposed to do? They were out of food, one of them needed to hunt and scavenge, and it had been her turn to take on those duties. So she had picked up her staff, forced herself out of the cave and gone looking for trouble. 

The problem was… trouble had a way of finding her. 

When Lorenna found the entrance to the cave and stumbled into it, she discovered it was pitch black. 

“Fenris?” Lorenna said cautiously, gripping her staff. 

No answer. 

“Fenris?” Lorenna repeated, walking cautiously into the cave. She lit a small flame in her hand and held it up. 

A pair of round eyes reflected back at her. 

Lorenna screeched in shock, extinguishing the flame and plunging the cave back into darkness. 

“Vishante kaffas, what are you doing?” Fenris’ voice asked. 

“What am I—? Oh, for Andraste’s sake—” Lorenna lit the flame again. “What are _you_ doing?” 

Fenris’ face swam into focus. “Lighting the fire,” he said, gesturing behind him. 

Lorenna glanced over his shoulder and saw that the small pit of coals lay dead and cold on the cave floor. She sighed and, clenching her fist and releasing it, pushed the flame in her palm into a streak of light. It landed on the coals, re-igniting them in a rush of flame before settling down to cackle merrily. 

“Show off,” Fenris muttered. 

“It was easier if I did it,” Lorenna said. “Conjuring is faster than rubbing two wet sticks together and hoping for the best.” 

“Show off,” Fenris repeated. He caught sight of her in the flickering flame and grabbed her arm, pulling her close. “What happened to _you?”_  

“Don’t worry, it’s not all my blood.” 

“Of course not, it’s never just your blood. What happened to you?” 

Lorenna slowly put down the sack she had lugged with her back to the cave. “A… bear.” 

“A bear.” 

“Yes, that’s what I said.”  

She let Fenris guide her to the smooth rock they had been using as a seat and sat down. She groaned, putting down her staff so she could rub the back of her neck with both hands. 

_Shit, I’m tired._  

“I left the cave,” Lorenna explained, fingers digging into her neck and working out the knots. It felt good. “I went hunting. I met a bear. The bear was big, so it chased me.” 

“Down a cliff?” Fenris asked, arms folded and eyebrow raised. 

“Yes. Maybe.” Lorenna shrugged and started massaging out her shoulder. “I kind of fell. Well, skid really. But down a hill, not a cliff—” 

“A very steep hill, regardless,” Fenris pointed out, eyes sweeping over her scratches and bruises. 

“The bear followed me,” Lorenna said. “I dunno, it must have had a taste for apostates. So I fought it off and killed it—that’s what’s in the bag, by the way, I hope you like bear for dinner because that’s all I’ve got—” 

Fenris nodded. “It’s fine—” 

“But then—you won’t guess what happened next.”

“I don’t know, Hawke,” Fenris said. “Trouble seems to find you whether you like it or not.” 

“The bear wasn’t the only thing in the woods who had a taste for apostates!” 

Fenris’ eyes went flat. “Templars?” he growled. 

“Yes,” Lorenna said. “Three of them.” 

_“Three?”_  

“They seemed rather surprised to find a mage on the coast fighting a giant bear, but there you go. That’s Thedas for you.” 

“You killed them, I take it?” Fenris said wearily. 

“Yes,” Lorenna said. “I really didn’t feel like getting stabbed through the chest or carted off in chains and made Tranquil, thank you very much. I didn’t survive Kirkwall just to die in Ferelden.” 

“And that’s why you’re covered in blood,” Fenris said. “For today, at least.” 

Lorenna nodded. “This place is shit,” she said. 

“I couldn’t agree more.” 

A crack of thunder boomed outside the cave. The relentless pounding of the rain echoed through the cave’s entrance. Lorenna huddled closer to the fire, grateful to be out of the rain, hail and lightning. 

They had been on the run for two months. After the explosion in Kirkwall, they had run north-east up the coast towards Ostwick, only to find that city in the midst of its own crisis. With nearly every city-state in the Free Marches in questionable circumstances, Lorenna and Fenris had made the rapid decision to take a ship south and sail for Ferelden. They had been dropped on the northern coast and had been making their way westwards towards Orlais ever since. They weren’t entirely sure where they were going, but anywhere free from templars, mages and Chantries was a good idea. 

However, a damp cave in the middle of a storm on the Storm Coast was not high on their list. 

Fenris sighed and sat down beside her. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, peering at her scratches. 

“I’m fine,” Lorenna said. “A bit battered, a bit hungry. A bit wet. Oh, and I stink.” 

Fenris smiled. 

“You do, too.” 

“Thanks,” he said. 

Lorenna scuffed the cave floor with her worn-out heel. “You don’t regret this, do you?” she asked. “Coming all this way, keeping ourselves hidden from the world—” 

“No,” Fenris said immediately. “It was the right choice. For us both. And I have been on the run before. I can do so again.” 

“There’s no wine,” Lorenna said. 

“We can do without.” 

“There’s no decent food.” 

“Why complain when we have delicious, delectable bear?” 

“There’s no—” 

“We will be fine,” Fenris said firmly. He put an arm around her shoulder and drew her close. 

“I’ve never been very good at being a refugee,” Lorenna said. 

“The last time you were fleeing the Blight,” Fenris said. “This time, you’re fleeing politics. There’s a difference. We keep travelling, to places where no one knows us. We find work. We keep moving. And we live—as best we can. It won’t all be caves and storms and dead bears forever.”

“I suppose so,” Lorenna said quietly. 

He kissed her forehead and let her draw closer. Lorenna rested her head against his chest, smiling at the familiar comfort, her eyes fluttering closed. Despite all the upheaval in their lives, at least this was something she could always count on. 


End file.
